


LN2

by saruma_aki



Series: Elements and Chemicals [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author regrets nothing, Clint Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Good Laufey, Good Loki, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Phil Coulson Is a Good Bro, Phil Is a Good Bro, Sequel, Sorry Not Sorry, author regrets everything, part two of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:24:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Loki, such is the name that was given to me,” the raven answered, bowing his head slightly in a show of greeting now that they were seemingly past the fighting and grunting part as they clashed with sharpened blades of chill.</p><p>“Loki,” the giant whispered as if tasting the name on his tongue and Loki felt a shiver run down his spine, though it wasn’t unpleasant. </p><p>.<br/>.<br/>.</p><p>This is part two to my previous work U235.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter o1

**Author's Note:**

> So, here is part two for the series Elements and Chemicals--the sequel to U235. I recommend reading that one first in order to understand this one, for anyone new joining in.
> 
> This happened due to popular demand. Originally I wasn't planning on writing a second part to this, but I got a lot of requests for this to be created into a series, so here it is. I hope you enjoy and thank you for your support, everyone!
> 
> P.S  
> This work is unbeta'd. Sorry! I tried my best with editing it and I've gone through it a few times, but human error, guys. I'm sorry if I missed anything. Feel free to point out any mistakes if you find anything.
> 
> This work was also prompted by ThePhoenixandTheDragon, so thank you to them!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.

It had been years since he had last heard the name. Since he had last heard that name mentioned in his presence and he jerked upright as his two sons came barreling into the room, shouting frantically and blabbering uncontrollably and out of the mess of words one word stood out. A name—the name—of his son, his third born.

 _“Silence,”_ he bellowed and it arrived not a second later, his two sons gazing up at him with red eyes, wide and eager. “Talk, one at a time, from the beginning.”

 

* * *

 

“So, your brother used to beat you?”

He cringed at the selection of words, drawing inward slightly as his fingers wrapped around his cup just a bit tighter, but nodded his head nonetheless because it was true in a way.

“And he never checked if you were okay afterwards?”

“No time that I remember consciously. He was pretty occupied with basking in the praise of his friends,” he responded, twisting the straw in between his fingertips and the blonde before him winced, looking down.

“That sounds horrid.”

“It wasn’t the worst, really. He’s a loveable oaf, honestly, just a bit self-absorbed and an attention hog.”

“And an abuser, apparently,” Clint grumbled, still put out by the new information. “Is it true that his friends tried to drown you?”

“Do you think I lied?” A female whirled around; staring at Clint accusingly and the blonde lounged further in his seat, shrugging his shoulders calmly with a lazy Cheshire grin curling on his lips, humming noncommittally. “You little—”

Loki stood quickly, wrapping his arms around Natasha’s waist and holding her back from a suddenly alert Clint, who was trying to scramble off the couch, but failing utterly and completely, falling flat on his face in the process. Natasha twisted from his grip, running forward and tackling Clint’s body while he was still recovering from falling. They tousled around on the ground, Natasha gaining the upper hand, but Clint then twisted away just in time to avoid her inescapable hands.

He leapt over the coffee table, running to the kitchen and Natasha followed, promising Clint a slow and painful death for thinking her a liar. Loki watched in amusement—that was until they nearly broke his favorite mug.

It was gift from Director Fury. The Norns themselves knew how precious any gifts from his friends were to him.

“ _Enough_ ,” he growled out, setting down his latte to scold the two, and they froze, Natasha towering over Clint who was bent back at an uncomfortable angle, hands flailing behind him in an attempt to stabilize himself. The red haired woman abruptly released the male and he toppled to the ground, landing with his arms pinned underneath him at an uncomfortable angle and he shouted out in pain.

“So graceful,” Natasha drawled, shooting the blonde a look, but when there was no immediate response, no whine and pout, she rapidly grew concerned. “Clint?” Normally there was a witty comeback to everything, regardless of whether he hurt himself accidentally or not.

Said blonde didn’t move; eyes clenched shut and Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.

“Clint,” Natasha tried again more forcefully and crouched down next to him, Loki moving closer and when she moved to grab Clint’s shoulder, he grunted out a tight ‘no’, eyes finally opening to look at them both before they slid to Loki. “Clint, what’s wrong? I swear to God, if this is a prank—”

Clint gritted out another negative, eyes screwing shut once more and that was when the patch of blood growing beneath him became obvious.

“Okay, _fuck_ ,” Loki uttered, falling to his knees and placing his hands on Clint’s shoulders despite the blonde’s desperate pleas for him not to. “My apologies, my friend, but this will hurt,” he murmured, dropping a soothing kiss onto his forehead before wrenching the male up to a sitting position and Clint nearly shrieked, but Natasha quickly shoved one of the throw pillows at Clint who bit down on it firmly, eyes screwing shut as the red-head pulled his head close to rest against her bosom.

“What’s wrong?”

“Laceration, though not from the fall,” Loki muttered, throwing a glance at the open window. He knew it was a bad day to have the window open, especially if Clint and Natasha were over. With a flick of his wrist, they were closed and the blinds drawn and Loki quickly turned his attention to Clint, hands making quick work of the blonde’s shirt before setting to work.

The weapon used was retrieved and after quick analysis, he determined it to have been just a knife—no poison. Relieved, he set about quickly healing Clint up before standing to fetch a bandage.

Natasha was soothing Clint softly, hands pressing gently against his scalp, massaging and hushing as Clint slowly got his wits about him again. The pool of blood was quickly vanished and the shirt was tossed out as Loki returned with the bandages and a new shirt for the blonde male. They helped him to the couch and he sat down heavily, blinking up dazedly at Natasha and Loki, probably still a bit dizzy from the blood loss and the fall itself.

He rolled his shoulders experimentally, tilting his head side to side a bit to test the mobility. “Am I good?”

“You’re good.”

“Good…” were the whispered words before he sagged to the side, body automatically curling up on the cushions. Natasha sighed softly and urged him to straighten as Loki quickly bandaged up the wound and then fit the shirt over Clint’s head, shoving the arms through the sleeves before finally letting Clint relax.

“I think I’ll take Fury up on that whole new apartment thing,” Loki muttered, resigning to having to listen to Fury ramble on about how he had told him this would happen. He honestly could do without the whole ‘I told you so’ speech, but then again, he loved it when Fury talked to him, regardless the topic. It was a hell of a lot more acknowledgement than he had ever received from Odin. “Clint, come on. We have to go to SHIELD headquarters now,” Loki murmured and Clint whimpered pathetically and Natasha sighed once more, rolling his eyes, though her gaze was fond and warm.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pulled the blonde up to his feet despite his rather loud groans of complaint. It took a while, but soon enough they were heading outside and it was as they stood on the street, Loki on the phone with Fury, giving him the rundown of the situation that Clint decided to open his mouth and voice his thoughts.

“Shit, guys, I think there’s something you should know.”

Loki and Natasha both turned, Fury now on speaker and as they were huddled around the phone and Clint shifted uncomfortably, pulling a face.

“I think I peed myself.”

 

 

 

Agent Coulson pulled up in front of them not five minutes later and Natasha shoved Loki into shotgun before packing Clint into the backseat with her. Fortunately Coulson had the precedence to bring Clint a back up pair of sweats and Loki heard the blonde sigh gratefully.

“You stuck to the rules,” Coulson—or rather Phil, since Loki quite liked the agent—grunted to him and Loki nodded, folding his hands in his lap, glancing back at Natasha and Clint through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I’m pretty positive whoever was there was watching us. Here’s the weapon used.” Loki motioned to the Ziploc bag he had resting at his feet and Phil nodded his head, winding through the rows of cars, ignoring the rules of the road completely to get to SHIELD headquarters as fast as possible. He probably had direct orders from Fury to hurry.

Who knew if the attacker was following them?

“So you _were_ stealing them! I can’t believe you peed in them!”

“Stop it, you’re stretching them!”

There was a bit of bickering and squeals before Clint giggled out, as if in realization. “I peed in them.”

There was another beat of silence before Natasha yelped and a soiled pair of purple lace female underwear landed on the dashboard. Phil frowned at the piece of clothing before cringing at the smell. Loki mimicked the action and quickly spelled it clean before they heard Natasha breathe out from behind them.

There was a sound akin to a pained groan from the red head and Loki glanced in the rearview mirror worriedly. It wouldn’t do for her to be wounded as well. “Agent Coulson, I have something to report.”

“What is it?” The stoic man questioned as he passed back the practically see-through female article of clothing, a light flush dusting high on his cheekbones. Sometimes Loki couldn’t help but be amazed at how domestic it all seemed, though it honestly made him happy. He considered these people his family on Midgard.

“Agent Barton shaves—like everywhere.”

Phil slammed the brakes on the car and Loki tensed, looking at the man worriedly before glancing back at the two agents in the backseat, Clint naked from the waist down and Phil just stared long and hard. His face was red and it took a moment for Loki to realize that it was in embarrassment and not anger.

Then, the features were slowly pulled into a dawning expression and Loki pressed his lips tight so as to not say something or to prevent himself from bursting into laughter.

The agent turned, eyes shut tightly before they opened once more and focused in on Clint’s face. “Did you take my razor?”

Silence followed and then Clint let out a tiny squeak of ‘maybe’ and then Phil was twisting, clambering into the backseat to presumably strangle the agent as Natasha laughed full-heartedly and Loki sighed softly, shifting to get into the driver’s seat and take the wheel, lips pressing tight once more to hold back his laughs.

Natasha soon joined him in the front.

 

 

 

Raven hair settled upon the covers, fanning out underneath him as he gazed up at the ceiling, dull as most ceilings were. It was a SHIELD issued apartment for the time being until he could find a safer place and Loki was perfectly okay with it, although it saddened him to have had to give up his old apartment, but it had been necessary.

At least Clint and Natasha would be safer when they visited—a bright side to the situation.

He rolled over, lying on his stomach. It would be a bit before he got to see them again, though.

SHIELD had tracked down the person who had tried to assassinate Clint and they were shipped out to go find the man and bring him in for questioning and possibly execution. Fortunately Clint was completely healed up now and had a hankering for revenge because now Natasha had put maximum security on her underwear drawers.

At least the blonde was taking out his anger healthily, though he refused to return the stolen garments to Natasha.

So, he was lazing about until his two friends returned or until Director Fury assigned him something to do. It was, coincidentally, just as he thought this that said director walked into the apartment, cringing at the emptiness of the place.

“I hear decorating is a great time consumer.”

“I’m assuming you don’t have an assignment then?”

The man trained his one good eye on Loki and the raven smiled innocently, slowly pushing himself up, resting his back against the wall. “No, I do.” A manila folder was dropped into his lap and he looked down at it, slowly opening it and scanning through the words.

“There was a disruption in the magnetic field in the Arctic. We need you to check it out. You can get the job done quickly—”

“And won’t freeze to death in the weather,” Loki added helpfully and Director Fury nodded his head in consent. He scanned through the papers, committing them to memory and he nodded a bit. “So, you want me to check the problem. If it’s someone not from here, do you want me to bring them in for questioning?”

“If you can, but I don’t want you to risk yourself doing so. It’s not so urgent since whoever it is—if there is anyone—hasn’t done anything yet.”

“Very well, Director,” he said as he stood up, vanishing his clothes and replacing them with his mission suit, specially designed not to become damaged with high or low temperatures due to his use of magic. It was SHIELD provided with apparently some special tweaks done by Reed Richards with some help from Tony Stark and Johnny Storm—although Johnny really only helped with the testing. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Alright,” Director Fury responded and then Loki was gone, leaving the man alone in the room.

 

 

 

The Arctic was cold, that was for damn sure, when Loki appeared on the white surface.

It was cold and blissful and he stood there for a few minutes, relishing in the chill and the thrum of his heritage against his ribcage. Reaching out, he felt the steady pulse of the casket in its pocket of space, beating in tune with his heart.

Unwinding the illusion spell on his skin normally, he felt the cold slowly descend upon him like a blanket, wrapping him in a comfort that few else could provide. When he released a breath it felt like the loosening of chains and he opened red eyes to gaze at his surroundings.

White, as far as the eye could see. How majestic the Arctic truly was.

Lowering himself to his knees, he pressed his ear against the ground, listening to the beating of the land. He froze, eyes slipping shut as he let his senses reach out far and wide to sense something—anything.

_There…_

Brow furrowing at the sound of a constant thumping, he sent a lone tendril of seidr into the ground, letting it run through the ice, through mountains of snow, until it rested just beneath where the thumps were taking place. They were moving. Closer—closer to him.

He stood quickly, retracting the seidr back into his body and let ice slowly encase his left arm. The fingers of his right hand twitched; prepared to cast his magic or reach for the casket should it be necessary. His steps were light and even, barely scuffing the frozen floor beneath his feet. They were bare of shoes and the soles could feel the cold slowly seeping into his feet and crawling up his legs.

It was soothing—something familiar he hadn’t felt as a child.

Oh, how _much_ he had _missed_.

He could see the figure.

It was slowly appearing, a spot amongst a sea of white.

Lowering himself into a crouch, he cast out an illusion to step forward, one that looked like a regular human would, bundled in an atrocious yellow winter coat and snow pants, complete with gloves and clunky boots. In one of the gloved hands was a gun. If the figure was human or had knowledge of Midgard’s current technology, they would fight or surrender. If they didn’t…

The figure was approaching slowly and Loki felt his breath catch as the being became larger as it came closer. It was tall—probably nine feet at the least, but as it halted in front of his illusion, he realized it could easily be ten to twelve feet.

His illusion pointed the gun—fired. The figure dodged and lashed out in anger and Loki saw the ice encasing the arm, the blue of the skin, the red of his eyes. _Frost Giant_ … His breath caught and the illusion slowly dissolved. There was an enraged growl and Loki stood from where he was crouched.

The Frost Giant turned, growling as it saw him and Loki let it make its way to him with fast, light steps. For beings so large, they were fast on their feet. He didn’t have any intention of wounding the giant, but if a fight was necessary, Loki would put his all in. After all, he wanted to leave this alive.

His seidr materialized itself in his hand, long and flowing like a whip of barely contained energy. Ice met ice as the giant brought down his arm. Loki blocked it swiftly, teeth gritting at the weight bearing down on his frankly smaller frame.

He lashed out the other hand, his magic coiling itself around one of the legs and he yanked hard, pulling himself away from the giant at the same time as it bent at the knee with a grunt. There was a whirl of clashing limbs, ice chipping and flying, but quickly remade. It got to the point where Loki was struggling to stay on his feet after having been knocked down so often.

Never had he had to go against a Frost Giant directly and in all honesty, he was a bit concerned to be losing so horrendously. He couldn’t pull out the casket—no, not with one of the blue giants. They would know what it was, they would panic, steal it, break Loki to get it from him.

Twisting out of reach, Loki hissed through his teeth as he dragged himself to his feet, his skin turning from the pale blue it had been to a deeper, richer blue. The dark blue of the royal family of Jotunheim flushed his skin, the lines of his position raising. The figure in front of him whirled, ready to launch, but then froze in shock. Shock from what, he didn’t know, but he took his opening.

Lashing out with his magic, he let it coil around the ankle, yanked. The giant fell to his knees with a groan and Loki grinned, flipping on top of it, thighs wrapping around the neck and he hooked his ankles beneath the chin. Leaning back, he let his weight focus backward and although he was very clearly lighter than the giant, the vulnerability the position revealed for the larger giant was enough to make him fall backward and that was exactly what Loki needed. Withdrawing his magic last minute, he dug the ice encasing his arms into the ground, flipping the giant over him.

The bolts of paint hat went through him following the move were promptly ignored as he scrambled away, feeling slightly dizzy, but not enough to back down. He drew his magic back into himself and stepped back a few feet to give the giant room. He didn’t want to be in immediate danger, anyway.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

The giant huffed as he pushed himself up, though Loki noticed with no small amount of pride that he seemed to be struggling to support himself on his arms. It took a few seconds, but the giant was soon on both of his feet and Loki watched in awe as it stood before him, gazing down at him with wet red eyes.

Wait— _what?_

“My son,” the giant murmured softly, looking down at him and Loki, staring dumbly at the man before him, shifted and stepped slightly closer.

“You are looking for your son?”

He felt kind of dumb. Somewhere, deep inside of himself, he knew what this giant was searching for, knew exactly what it was and yet he didn’t want to acknowledge it. The fear gripped at his insides and he felt the unnoticeable trembling of his body.

“Yes—and I have found him.” The voice was so soft, so vulnerable, so broken yet overjoyed that the raven was at a loss for words, his sanity having gone and packed its bags and left for a vacation.

“State your name,” Loki commanded and when the giant continued to stand there, staring at him with such a warm look carved on the ice wielders face, he hissed, eyes narrowing. “Your name, state it!”

The giant shifted upon his feet, took a step closer, placed a hand on his shoulder and looked down at him with eyes warm and sweet like fresh cranberry sauce just put on the stove to simmer. And just like that he _knew_ even before he had said anything.

“Laufey…” he whispered and then his eyes strayed to the matching marks on their skin and his breath caught and in a mere second, he forgot all of his training and survival skills. He crumpled forward, be it in relief or in resignation, he didn’t know, but either way large arms encased him as he drooped forward.

“My lost son, I am at last reunited with you,” Laufey whispered and Loki felt his world fade to black.

By the Norns, he really hated himself sometimes.

 

 

 

Natasha stared at Director Fury as he told them where Loki was. “You sent him to the Arctic,” she reiterated, staring long and hard at the man. Director Fury nodded his head, returning the stare evenly. Clint, who was standing just next to them, sighed in annoyance, watching them have a staring contest. It was never as fun as it was when they started—it had been five minutes already.

“The people that tried to kill me are after Loki, not us,” Clint finally blurted out, dropping with an ‘oof’ into one of the chairs, releasing a satisfied rumble afterwards as he snuggled into the cushions. Agent Coulson, who was standing a bit off to the side stared at him disapprovingly, a frown on his face and Clint tossed him a grin.

He was pretty positive Phil was still upset over the razor, though Clint had apologized for it. Unfortunately he and Clint had the same razor and Clint had ‘accidentally’ grabbed Phil’s when he couldn’t find his own.

Director Fury finally looked away and Clint nearly snorted as he saw Natasha do a miniature happy dance behind his back. It was a small miniscule tilt of her hips, fingers twitching in a mocking of the disco and most people would have missed it, but Clint had known her for too long, learned her quirks, to not see it.

She stepped forward as Director Fury rounded on Clint. “They were?”

“Yeah,” Clint confirmed, finally straightening up as he fell in what was so uninterestingly dubbed as his agent mode. “When we tracked them down, we found them in the middle of a conversation. As we listened in, we discovered their goal was to get Loki, not me. The agent was killed before we could get to him—it’s why we returned without the man, but with the leader. There were no survivors.”

“Did you get why he wanted Loki?”

“Our best guess is to recruit him, but their leader is refusing to talk and we’re not allowed to use _other_ means until a week after his capture to give him time to open up. It’s against—”

“I know my own rules, Agent Barton,” Fury stated before he sighed softly, walking over to his windows and staring out of them.

 _Over dramatic,_ Clint thought secretly and Fury decided at that moment to send him a look as if he could hear him and he flinched, grinning sheepishly, falling into his at ease self rather easily. His agent mode was very easy to fall out of, after all.

“He should be back soon, so I won’t call him back. Let’s give him another hour,” Fury muttered as he finally moved away from the window and sent a nod at Agent Coulson before exiting the room.

Natasha moved towards the door, but Phil caught her wrist before she could move past him. “Sorry, Agent, but not happening,” Phil walked past her, standing at the door as two other SHIELD agents filed in to stand guard next to the only entrance and exit from the room, fully armed and ready. Clint stood up and moved next to Natasha, brow furrowed in confusion, one hand resting on his hips while his other twitched for his bow that was lying on the table top. “I’m to keep you in this room for the next hour.”

 

 

 

 

When Loki came to, he was on his back on the welcoming ground with the beautiful ice covering that made his entire body sweet with the numbness. His blood pumped steadily through his veins as he let his seidr slip into the ground to assess his surroundings as he feigned unconsciousness still, just in case. The memories of when he fell unconscious rolled through his mind leisurely like a car ride through the country side where there wasn’t another car in sight and it was just plains for miles.

_Laufey…_

“Are you awake?” A deep voice rumbled from near him and Loki’s magic automatically snapped towards the direction of the voice. Some primal need deep inside of him cried for him to go to the cold embrace of someone of his actual blood line, but he ignored it in favor of keeping himself safe—just in case.

“Son…?”

By the _Norns,_ how he _longed_ to curl up against the larger frost giant…

No point in pretending now.

Rolling over, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees before rolling back onto his haunches. Eyes fluttering open, they immediately trained on Laufey, a hulking blue figure standing out amongst the white, yet blending in all the same. He didn’t dare open his mouth, didn’t dare move from where he was crouched his pale red eyes surveying the still form of his sitting birth father.

He stared.

“What is it you go by, my child?” Laufey asked at last, a hesitant question asked nearly as meek as Loki had always asked questions whenever in the presence of his own family until he had grown older. He nearly snorted at the resemblance.

Oh, what bitter memories those were, though.

 

 

 

A younger Loki sat in front of his father, his brother next to him in one of the many study rooms in the castle of Asgard. Thor was a ball of unrestrained energy next to him as Odin lectured them on the rules of the training grounds before he would take them there.

Loki, on the other hand, was the completely opposite. He had his thin arms wrapped around his legs, resting a pointed chin on top of knobby knees as he watched his father, dread seeping into every pore. He didn’t like the sound of weapons training, being on dirt dusty ground battling people with swords and hammers and bow and arrows and staff. It didn’t sound like fun to him.

“And I know you’re both excited,” Odin said and he cast Thor a proud look as he watched his blonde haired son jerk in joy as he knew the lecture was drawing to a close, “but I expect you to be on your best behavior as I show you around. Your lessons will start today, but I expect you to keep on top of your studies.”

Loki wanted to shrink into his chair, to disappear and never be found. His father looked at them both now, staring them down with his one eye, golden eye patch shining in the sun light streaming through the window. “Any questions,” he cocked an eyebrow, obviously expecting none, but Loki meekly cocked his fingers up in a mimicking of raising his hand. Odin looked at him curiously, though the twitch in his jaw and the whine from Thor let the raven know they were both impatient to get out to the ground already.

“D-do—”

“Speak up, Loki. You must learn to assert yourself—be more like your brother.”

He wanted to shrink, to slowly sink into the seat and just be _gone_. “Do we have to?” he managed to croak out weakly, voice quivering a tad at the end and he wanted to run for his mother’s skirts and bury himself in the blue satin that was covering her today. Unfortunately, she wasn’t there at the moment and it would be considered indecent for him to do so, anyway.

“Of course,” was Odin’s abrupt response and Loki twitched back involuntarily as the one eye narrowed on him. Looking down, he watched his father and brother rise to exit the room and he slowly rose after them. Exiting the room, he let his eyes scan around the area as they walked; his steps deliberately slower than those of the other two.

How he dreaded this…

Thor was easily engaging Odin in a conversation of his goals when it came to the training and Odin was with him one hundred percent.

Oh, how he _wished_ he had that kind of connection with his father.

Neither one of them realized when he stopped walking and watched them keep going, becoming smaller and smaller before finally vanishing around the corner, and they certainly didn’t notice that he turned around and walked down towards the kitchens and then to the dungeons to give the prisoners food.

He hated asking questions since that moment.

The prisoners were rude, leered at him, some tried to grab at him, but Loki delivered their food easily enough, dodging assaults and letting obscene jokes and hurtful comments roll off of him like water. It’s not like they were anything new. He had heard most of them far too often to actually pay them any mind, though they had each left their own emotional scar.

He then took to the gardens, clambering up into the highest branches of a tree, dense in its leaves, but with branches too weak to support anyone heavier than him, so not Thor and most certainly not his father. There he dozed until he heard the scuffling of the workers as it neared time for dinner.

It was in the dining hall as they were eating that Loki was discovered to have skipped. Funnily enough, neither Odin nor Thor had noticed until Frigga asked. Amidst the boasting of Thor and doting of Odin, Frigga noticed that not a word had been said about her other son. Her raven haired child who was delicately eating his meal with not a single scratch on him, enjoying the tranquility of his little bubble, wasn’t mentioned at all—not even grazed over in the conversation.

“And what of Loki,” she inquired, turning the heads of the two males and she completely missed the tensing of the mentioned child along with the glimmer of green light. “Did he do as well as Thor?”

“He—” Odin froze, drawing in a breath as his brow furrowed in confusion as he thought through the entire session. Thor looked contemplative for a moment before looking up at his father. “I don’t even recall him being there. Thor, do you remember?” Thor shook his head negative and Frigga frowned in befuddlement.

Unfortunately Odin put two and two together far faster in this situation than Frigga and he turned his furious gaze on the raven haired boy who was frozen stock solid in his seat, staring at them all with wide emerald eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Oh dear,” Frigga murmured as she finally pieced it together, her fingers brushing her lips as she looked at them both worriedly.

“You _dared_ to _ditch_ the training session?” Odin roared and Frigga sighed, eyes pressing closed as she prayed to the Nine that Odin would say no more. Of course, her prayers were always unanswered when it came to Odin and his temper. In later years, she would find the same thing would happen with Thor’s temper. “No son of mine will skip training. You will be weak without it. It is necessary to be a warrior.”

Loki didn’t move, staring up unblinkingly at Odin, stuttering breaths escaping him.

“How dare you? What reason did you have, _huh_? Answer me!”

His eyes widened a fraction more as Odin gripped the heavy silver plate on which his food lay.

_“Answer me!”_

He jerked back as the plate was flung forward in his rage and the food and the half full plate flew at him and—

—Passed straight through him.

Loki jumped away from where he was standing at the door and ran as far as he could from the dining hall as fast as possible as the illusion faded in the chair he had been supposedly sitting in, now knocked over, and Odin and Thor both stared dumbly at the chair while Frigga yelped in surprise.

Then the yelling ensued.

He slept on top of the stable that night, curled up under a thin blanket and in the morning, he was quick to hurry out into the town to avoid seeing his family. He didn’t return home for a few nights.

 

 

 

 

  
“Loki, such is the name that was given to me,” the raven answered, bowing his head slightly in a show of greeting now that they were seemingly past the fighting and grunting part as they clashed with sharpened blades of chill.

“Loki,” the giant whispered as if tasting the name on his tongue and Loki felt a shiver run down his spine, though it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly as he stood up and Laufey followed quickly, looking down at him and Loki met his gaze, not looking the slightest bit intimidated by the difference in stature. “Look,” a sigh spilled forth as he thought how screwed up this situation truly was, “I’m supposed to bring you back to headquarters, so if you don’t mind terribly, maybe we can chat there instead…?” He cringed inwardly at how his voice automatically turned it into a question, a habit he had failed to kick yet, ingrained in his mind from constantly having to face Odin’s glare of doom every time he opened his mouth to even begin with the question.

“Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“Great.” An awkward clear of his throat and a few seconds of uncomfortable silence later, Loki reached out with his arm. “Give me your hand.”

The large blue hand dwarfed his own slender one and Loki unconsciously reveled in the feeling of the cold calluses against the smooth skin of his own hand. The match of the shades of blues made him shudder, surprisingly in delight, as the deep royal blue of Laufey’s skin blended against his own skin.

Letting his magic wrap around both of their bodies, he felt Laufey squeeze his hand, a minute feeling of compression before they were teleported off of the ice.


	2. Chapter o2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long wait! Family issues came up and my writing and editing process was interrupted while things were dealt with, but here is finally the second chapter of LN2. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S.
> 
> This chapter in un-beta'd.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.

Director Fury stared at him, brown eye boring deep into emerald. It was long moments before the man slowly leaned back, his stance relaxing minutely, but that was all the indication Loki needed to release the breath he had been unconsciously holding.

“Your father, huh,” the director drawled, eyebrow cocked as his gaze turned to the blue giant sitting on an ice throne in a highly cooled room so that he wouldn’t suffer heat exhaustion or heat stroke.

“Biological father, yes,” Loki confirmed with a short nod, hands clasped behind his back as he remained in the at ease soldier position, legs spread shoulder with apart, shoulders lax, yet his posture rigid and straight.

“Why is he here?”

At that, Loki fell silent, hypnotic eyes staring at his father through the one way glass. The giant looked almost humble despite being upon a throne, his hands clasped in his lap and Loki wondered if the giant had caught on that the majority of people on Midgard did not wear solely a loincloth as clothe. “I do not know, Director,” he finally uttered, tearing his eyes away from the man he had been raised to detest.

A war raged inside his body, some starved part of his being craving to launch himself into the strong arms of a father he never got to know while the more logical part told him to restrain him and make sure none of this was a trick. He could be endangering himself and his new found family on Midgard.

_That throne looks really comfortable…_

“Go find out, then,” Fury muttered at last and Loki jerked slightly, having gotten lost in his thoughts and at the permission, he nodded firmly, walking into the room, trying to ignore the fact that he knew Fury would be watching.

He’d never changed in front of Director Fury, but as he entered his room, his heritage immediately showed itself without him needing to undo the magic, the cold making his body react to protect itself from freezing.

“You are a shifter?”

“I have a talent for shape-shifting, yes,” Loki admitted as he let the ice naturally resting in his body come out, mixing with his seidr to create another chair for himself and he sat, barely holding back a pleased purr at the cold. “So,” he hummed, looking at Laufey in his blood red eyes that looked so deeply into him, “let’s talk.”

 

 

 

 

Natasha stared long and hard at the knocked out SHIELD officers lying at her feet; she had meant to interrogate them. Looking at their prone forms, she realized that form of action was probably not best if she was trying to ask them something.

“Great going,” Clint called as he dropped down from the air vent above, eyes roaming over the still figures on the floor. “How are we supposed to find Loki now?”

Natasha shot him a glare before walking straight ahead. “They tried awfully hard to prevent us from heading in this direction. He has to be this way,” she stated, powerful stride leaving Clint a few paces behind her and he jogged to keep up before finally falling into step beside her.

“Good thinking,” he drawled before falling silent and when she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, she saw he looked dead set on finding Loki, jaw firm and muscles tight.

They walked strongly, looking every bit like they belonged to be there, although Natasha was fairly positive Phil was commanding agents onto their tail as heads began to turn towards them. She caught the sight of someone rushing away from them, taking a left down the corridor and her gaze narrowed.

Clint, it appeared, had caught sight of it as well—with eyes like his, it was completely possible—and he shifted his direction, following after him, but he pulled out his phone, releasing a yawn as he typed on it lazily.

“Do you think pizza delivery will make it past security this time?” Clint asked Natasha as the red-head fell into step next to him, glancing casually at his phone, clicking a random button on it. “Hey!”

“I want bacon and I doubt they will.”

“Last time was a catastrophe,” the blonde muttered, typing another few buttons as he held the phone up to his ear. The speakers in the walls frizzled before a sharp tone rang out, making all of them wince. “Testing, testing, one, two, three,” was drawled and SHIELD officers immediately turned eyes skyward. “Get down.”

 

 

 

 

When the door of where they were talking burst down, Loki assumed one of two things. Either it was an attack or some of the weapons tech had malfunctioned and hit the door—it wouldn’t have been the first time. What he hadn’t expected was his friends’ to be standing there in stances of righteous indignation with their shoulders rolled back and eyes focused on him—who was in his Jotun form.

He thought he would be more panicked about this.

And then Clint began letting loose a litany of curses about how cold it was as he rushed in to check if Loki was injured or not while Natasha turned her ever sharp eyes onto the giant in the room.

“Who is this?” she demanded as she faced the man, her arms crossed tightly across her chest and Loki didn’t know if it was to seem more powerful or to hold back the shivers that would no doubt be shaking her form at the temperature.

Rising from his seat, he let his magic surround the two trained assassins, creating a blanket of warmth and as he saw the muscles in her jaw relax just slightly, he knew it had been from the cold.

“This is my birth father, King Laufey of Jotunheim.”

The giant rose and had to bend slightly in the middle so that his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“I suppose you two better sit down.”

Loki sighed. He couldn’t believe he had to deal with this headache now.

 

 

 

 

It was five minutes later and a good deal of questions of his appearance later that he finally got back to the main issue at hand which was what Laufey, the _king_ of an _entire realm,_ was doing on Midgard looking for him.

“Like I said, though, Helbindi and Byleistr heard rumors that the child of Odin had disappeared—the one everyone barely ever heard of. My children heard the name and came running to inform me,” Laufey said and Loki uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“How did you know my name them when you asked for my name when I saw you?”

Laufey sighed, shifting as well and Loki wondered if it was because of the question or because both Agent Barton and Agent Romanov were boring holes into the side of his head.

“We had always had our suspicions. After all, you disappeared the night the war ended, taken from the temple I left you in, and then the next day we hear news that the house of Odin had another child, although I had seen visions of the Lady Frigga from our sorcerers and she had not been pregnant.”

Loki pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to process it all. Honestly, it had only been some months since he had left Asgard in hopes of not having to deal with things like this. Why was this happening? He had been on his best behavior, had he not?

“Why now? Why come after me now?”

How it frustrated him! He had worked so hard to get away, to leave it all behind. It was supposed to give him reprieve for a good year, at the very least. Why had it not worked? When he was so careful!

“If you had your suspicions, why not corner me on one of my trips to Jotunheim? Why risk the wrath of the Allfather when he learns you came to Midgard—you, king of the Frost Giants?” He stood, or rather jumped up, fists clenched.

“Because we were not sure,” Laufey responded and he looked as if he itched to stand as well. Loki caught sight of Natasha tensing slightly in her chair, looking ready to intervene should a fight break out.

“And how could this make you sure? How was this any confirmation?”

“Did you not notice the day when you left? It was the eve of the day you were taken from me. I went to the sorcerer to ask of the well-being of my missing son and I hear that he has disappeared from his sights. Next is the news that the second born in the house of Odin has disappeared, last seen by the first born Thor and the gatekeeper Heimdall. What was I supposed to think?”

“Why didn’t you just ask the sorcerer for a name from the beginning?” Loki cried out in anger, lashing out and unknowingly his magic frizzed in the air, sending sparks of green light crackling through the ice and air. Clint jerked in surprise from where he stood.

“Do you not think I tried? He could not see, couldn’t put a name to you!”

“Why not couldn’t he?”

“There was spell.”

“He should have broken it. Do you have any idea how _long_ I had to suffer at his hands? Do you have any idea how he made me _feel?_ How any of them made me feel?” His eyes narrowed, body drawn tight, muscles tense, needing, wanting—what? What did he want? What did he _need?_

“Loki—”

“If you asked about my well-being, then you must’ve known. You must have.”

“And what could I have done?” Laufey finally shouted, leaning forward in his chair menacingly, a towering figure. “Do you think I _didn’t_ want to go to you and sweep you away from whatever made you feel so terrible?” His hands were clutching the arm rests of his throne tightly. “If I had known where you were, _who_ you were, do not doubt for a moment that I wouldn’t have come for you, taken you home.”

Loki glared with all of his might, trying to calm the battle inside of him. The emotions racing through him didn’t make sense—there were too many. He had to calm down, calm down!

“I longed to, but you were lost to us, all of us. There was too powerful a spell on you, no matter what we tried. There was no way to break it.”

Slumping back into the seat, Loki placed his hand over his chest.

Was his heart supposed to beat that hard?

Was it supposed to go that fast?

His thoughts were a mess like a train wreck, car after car crashing into each other until it was a sea of metal and smoke.

“Loki…”

The sound of Clint’s voice barely registered, but it was that faint sound that brought him back from the edge of hyperventilating. That wouldn’t do. He was supposed to be calm and collected.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, don’t make it obvious.

His fingers pressed against his temples, rubbing in slow rhythmic circles.

Calm down, calm down.

“Did you break the spell?” He heard movement and he peeked up to see Laufey shaking his head and Loki sighed softly. “How did you find me, then?”

“I have gone to every realm in search of you,” he whispered and Loki felt his brain become fuzzy. He could not deal with this. Standing up, he waved away the concern of his friends, walking out after muttering a weak ‘be right back’.

 

 

 

 

Two pairs of piercing eyes were fixed on the giant once more and Laufey tried not to flinch—tried, being the keyword. They were very fierce mortals.

“So, you’re Loki’s father? I totally see the resemblance,” Clint murmured, arms crossed over his chest, his head cocked to the side slightly. His heart thundered in his chest. Never had he thought there would be a day where he would meet a blue giant, though he should have seen it coming. He worked for SHIELD—it had only been a matter of time.

He was seriously beginning to regret his decision of joining SHIELD.

“Why are you here?” Natasha asked; her words a low drawl of nonchalance and perfect ease. How he wished he could do that...

Well, he could, but if they were playing good cop, bad cop, Clint preferred the good cop. No one exactly took a guy who fought with a bow and arrow set as seriously as they should. It was an easy mistake and Clint pronounced himself guilty for easily playing along. What was he supposed to do? The world was boring the majority of the time and if he didn’t entertain himself his brain would be good as rotted.

“You already heard that, Lady Romanov.”

“I want you to say it again,” she responded, remaining that dangerous air of aloofness that always made people’s skin crawl—especially if they had seen what she could do.

“I am here for my son.”

“And what do you want with your son? To take him home? To take away what makes him happy just like Odin had?”

“I-I would never—”

“Then, why are you here?” she hissed, standing and it was in such a show of fluid grace that Clint felt as if his heart had gotten itself lodged in his throat as well, watching the fiery red head make a giant— _a giant—_ tremble in his, uh, loincloth.

She looked ridiculously small, glaring up defiantly at a blue giant sitting on a throne made of ice, though the terrifying blank expression on her face countered it beautifully. It made even Clint’s blood freeze, faster than the room around them would be able to if Loki’s magic wasn’t protecting them.

He watched Laufey shift and—was that discomfort on his face? It was just the briefest of flashes, but it was all they needed for them to pounce, clinging on with claws and teeth.

“Is there a special reason?”

“Do you intend to use him as a bribing method?”

“Is he your ticket into Asgard?”

“Is this just a ploy to lock him as prisoner and demand payment from the King of the golden palace in exchange for his adoptive son?”

Laufey’s eyes narrowed and suddenly it dawned on him that they were poking a sleeping bear with a fucking spear. This was a king who had ice running through his veins.

Loki had tried to explain to him that wasn’t how it worked, but ice in the veins seemed a lot cooler.

Inwardly, he cringed at the pun.

“I would never wish that upon my son!” The king bellowed, straightening in his throne and the blonde wondered idly if Laufey would stand up right now to be a tower of royal rage if it wasn’t for the fact that hitting his head on the ceiling would ruin the whole effect.

“Then, why?” Natasha pressed and did she have a death wish? Clint’s flight or fight instinct was in complete disarray. Was this situation safe? Did he _miss_ something? No, he couldn’t have. His eyes were too sharp. Hell, the first words Loki had spoken to him were about his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

_“Your eyes are very pretty.”_

“Thanks, Nat,” Clint responded, smiling at the red head gently slurping coffee and now quizzically raising an eyebrow at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You complimented me; thank you,” was his response as if it was the most obvious thing, and in a way, it really was. There was nothing about the situation that seemed unnatural to him until Natasha’s brows furrowed and she set down her coffee.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did—”

“No, I didn’t. In fact, I haven’t said a word other than ‘hi’ and neither have you.”

He felt a shudder wrack his body and he glanced about warily. Clint didn’t recall signing up for a horror film—no, sir, he had not signed on that dotted line. This was not happening.

_“They’re like gems.”_

And those were definite chills rising along is arms and he barely contained himself from jerking up and whirling around. That would be unprofessional and attract more attention they he would be comfortable with. Natasha cocked a brow and Clint smiled nervously, just the barest twitch of the corner of his mouth, though his eyes kept darting about; a dead giveaway of his apprehension.

“Clint—”

His heart was thudding against his ribs, marking a tattoo on the front of his chest and it was only due to his training that he hadn’t escalated into a full-blown panic attack.

_“They see everything, don’t they? Your eyes, I mean…”_

His fingers twitched, a muscle in his jaw jerking as his eyes cast about again looking for something, anything, to pinpoint the noise to.

_“Except, they can’t see me, can they?”_

“No,” he gritted out and there had been a light laugh near his ear and he felt the brush of air, just a bit, against his cheek and he chanced it, hand coming up as if to bat away a mosquito but with more force than necessary.

_“Woah, he almost got me, there. I guess your other senses are just as remarkable.”_

And now he had a face to put to the voice as his eyes immediately focused on the male standing next to their table. He was wearing form fitting black slacks—he wondered briefly if they were tailored—and a white button up that was slightly tucked in, the first two buttons undone.

“Natasha, explain, _now_.”

 

 

 

 

“I never laid eyes on him, not since after I left him in the temple. I just wanted to know he was safe. Times have been hard in Jotunheim, unfortunately, and I felt the urge to assure myself that my third born wasn’t suffering troubles as well.”

Natasha stared, nonplussed.

“I have no desire to steal him away from Midgard or lock him up or use him as means to get into Asgard or an object of wealth. I merely wished to know he was alright.”

A long pause and Clint decided that since this was technically a once in a lifetime opportunity, he would make the most of it. The conversation was as good as over now, anyway.

Gathering the shreds of his courage, he stood, marched over to where the giant was and looked up at him, gazing into gleaming red eyes. They were soft in expression, like pools of wine and he slowly dragged himself closer, step by step, watching for any indication of danger before holding out his hand.

The giant stared.

“Make me an ice sculpture.”

 

 

 

 

When Loki returned into the room it was to see Natasha and Clint marveling at exact replicas of themselves in ice and he sighed softly, feeling the tension bleed out of his shoulders. Just the sight of them in one piece and completely unharmed soothed his frazzled nerves and cleared his head.

His eyes met Laufey’s briefly and after having relaxed himself as well as possible outside of the room; he managed to toss over a small smile.

It was an exasperated one, like they were dealing with kids and looking at Clint who was all kinds of immature at the best of times and even worse when times were bad, they sort of were.

The things he did for those who he cared about.

“Who rules over Jotunheim in your absence?”

“Helbindi and Byleistr are in charge—co-leaders, if you will.”

“And they are alright with it?”

At this, Laufey’s brow furrowed, wondering why they wouldn’t be and then it clicked.

Odin was definitely at the top of his most hated people list.

“Two people can rule just fine, though it’s merely simpler to assign one person.”

Loki frowned, but nodded before both of them returned their attention to Natasha and Clint who had gone to matching their weapons to the sculptures, testing the accuracy, probably. He honestly thought it looked more like they were trying to show off their skills to keep Laufey afraid, what with all the twirling of daggers and flipping of guns and arrows.

“How about we grab a coffee?” Loki finally asked and glanced over at Laufey who cocked his head in confusion.

“I do not know what coffee is, but I will gladly try it, so long as it’s not poisonous.”

And then there was a laugh, soft and weak, but a laugh and the giant’s heart beat just a bit faster because his son was laughing—his _son_ was _laughing._ Never had he thought this day would come.

“It’s not poisonous, but trust me when I say it’s good.”

“Very well—I would be delighted.”

 

 

 

 

It was a few days later that found Loki sitting comfortably in a new bed in a brand new apartment, not SHIELD issued, thankfully. It had been a long arduous process to sign off on the apartment, put under a different name, not his own, and he had to put up an illusion of an elderly lady to get through it all, but it was done and he now had a new apartment to himself.

Next to him sat a man, looking barely through his early thirties, bald, but his eyes were a mixture of green and blue and shining with life. His smile was warm, always small, but it held the warmth of a thousand hugs.

“Do you wish to grab a cup of coffee?” Loki asked, looking up from his lap. It was amazing how meek he felt in the situation, though it very well wasn’t his fault. Regardless of how tough and independent he seemed, there was still a part of him that was that small scared child robbed of a childhood he so desperately craved for.

“Sure,” the man smiled, holding out his hand and Loki hesitated only for a second, mind flashing to how Odin stopped offering his hand to Loki as soon as training started, but then he grasped the hand, firm and strong, “my son.”

The smiles they shared were close to blinding.

 

 

 

 

The clash of spears against swords, of daggers cutting leather, armor clanging, filled his ears and Loki cringed away from the area of battle. How he longed to be anywhere but here.

“Come now, brother! I will show you what I have learned,” Thor called to him and Loki tried not to wince at the booming voice of his oaf of a brother. It hadn’t been long since they started training, a few years about, Loki now dragged bodily to the training grounds after the first time.

The following years had resulted in far too many bruises and cuts and the loss of his voice for a bit due to a well-aimed blow to his throat.

Casting a disdainful look to the dust being kicked up by frantic footsteps and twisting bodies on far too dry dirt, he nodded his head at Thor. Walking a few steps away, he motioned to his dear older brother.

“Very well, go ahead.”

“You must fight against me, brother, alright? Actually attempt your training,” Thor instructed and emerald orbs rolled in annoyance before walking over to his brother.

“I always try, brother dearest,” was his whispered words before he gave the blonde a soft shove. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

He wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment as Thor darted towards him, skidding to the side and sweeping a leg down to shove Loki to the ground before twisting on top of the male, delivering a series of blows in rapid succession.

He tried not to squirm under Thor’s heavier body, not wanting one blow to miss its intended target and actually hit something vital. Then the blonde was gone, stepping back and calling for that beloved hammer of his which he had recently grown into, as well.

The hammer hurt, it always did.

Rolling onto his knees, arms trembling just slightly, hands pressed against the ground firmly, Loki looked up through the cloud of dust and black strands of his own hair to see Thor standing, hammer clutched tight in his hand as he approached.

He was lucky that the team of healers was there always in case of injury.

It was sad to think he was on a first name basis with most of them.

Eyes locked on the hammer, Loki felt his heart tremble, his body ache in every place the blasted thing had ever touched. He could feel the ghosts of the pain coursing through his body. How he detested the hammer! Not for what it was, but for the pain it caused him.

Did he deserve it?

Was this punishment for the harmless pranks he pulled?

Maybe it was punishment for skipping the first training session…

Did Thor hurt him of his own volition?

Maybe this was punishment for his feelings…

He heard the guards talking about how emotions, feelings, were a weakness most of them could not afford during war times. How the easy women in gatherings filled with mead were the only companionship they could afford during rough times.

Well, it wasn’t war time, but then again—in the palace, it always seemed like a war.

“Stop, brother,” he hissed, eyes flashing red for a moment and doubted Thor noticed, though he felt it—felt the cold spreading through his body, sending a feeling relaxation and tension through his body at the same time.

The hammer was raised and then brought down and Loki felt the pain in his back and then the cold unleashed and when he dragged himself to his feet, hand cupping his shoulder where the majority of the blow had hit, he was greeted by white.

He glanced about with bleary eyes to see his brother lying a few feet away, coughing. There was a line of something bright leading up to his body and Loki frowned. Letting his clothed foot brush against it, he smiled a bit when it crunched and curled under the touch, like sand, but better.

It took him about three moments to recognize that it was snow.

_Snow…_

There was never snow on Asgard.

The reason it was the golden realm was because the sun practically always shined and the high golden peaks of the palace were never capped with beautiful white blankets and spiraling designs of chill.

There were odd looks being tossed at him as Thor groaned weakly and Loki’s eyes zeroed in on the ice covering the front of his brother’s training clothes, the way he was trembling and his lips were quivering while his teeth chattered uncontrollably.

The whispers started not a beat later and Loki glanced about, looked down at the snow and following the trail.

It started with him.

Where his feet were, the snow began and continued up to Thor.

His ears zeroed in on the whispers.

_“Magic—are you sure?”_

_“The art is only for girls.”_

_“But ice, of all things.”_

_“Well, we all knew he was a weird one.”_

He’d broken his father’s rule.

Never use magic in the company of others, especially not those outside the castle walls.

_“Why didn’t they give him up earlier?”_

_“They probably didn’t want to cause a scandal.”_

_“At the very least they could lock him up.”_

He stumbled back, gazing at his brother’s trembling form with wide eyes. The healers were rushing towards him, spells already being uttered to thaw the ice, another to warm the body, another to help with respiration.

He turned and fled.

Odin didn’t talk to him that night at dinner. Loki assumed that the only reason he hadn’t was because of his first outburst during the first day of training. No one wanted a repeat.

Odin never talked to him, though, so it was fine. He never held out his hand to Loki anymore, never pulled him close; never touched him so long as he could avoid it. Not anymore…

He left the table silently then, grabbing a small plate of sweets as he went, not turning around.

The door closed behind him.

He hadn’t gotten more than two steps away before the talking began, light hearted, praises tossed left and right to Thor, a soft chuckle here, a boisterous laugh there, whispered words of concern.

He walked to his room, locked the door, and sat on the window ledge where, with pale fingers, he drew the intricate designs of frost around the borders of the window until it covered the edges. It grew sparse near the center and oh how he loved it.

The brightness of golden halls and shining peaks would never compare to the simple complexity of a flake of snow decorating the air.

 

 

 

 

It was about a week afterwards that Loki stood before the hulking form of a blue frost giant, red eyes focusing down at his own paler orbs, smiling and warm. The unrestrained affection they showed was nearly more than he could take, but he knew his own face mirrored the look, if to a lesser extent.

“I wish to thank you and your friends for allowing me to have some time to get to know you.”

Loki could feel his heart humming in contentment and he gazed at Laufey—his father.

“Thank you for coming,” was all he could croak out, working hard to not become overwhelmed with emotion. The man grinned, reaching down and patting Loki’s shoulder with a broad blue hand, the matching royal blues of their skin making their lips quirk into twin smirks of happiness.

“Take care, Loki.”

“And you.”

And mustering his energy, Loki reached out and touched the giants hand and it was in that brief moment of contact that Loki felt like his heart had finally been put further at ease with this his new life—an unresolved part of his former life nagging him finally put down to rest—and then he was gone.

Slumping, he kneeled on the ground and pressed his finger tips to the white ground of the Arctic floor. His blood thrummed through his veins, the pleasing cold washing over him. There was a wave of vertigo before it was gone and he rested for a bit before finally rising and turning away from the spot his father had stood in just seconds before.

King Loki had a nice ring to it, he decided, but as his phone vibrated and the voice of Director Fury filled his ear, he decided Agent U235 sounded a lot better.

“Tell them I’m coming back now.”

“Roger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the story! I don't know when the next installment to the series will come, but I'll post an extra chapter in this story with a preview, as I did in U235, and some comments and stuff.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> If you haven't already, feel free to subscribe to the series, Elements and Chemicals ( http://archiveofourown.org/series/348545 ) so that you receive an e-mail on the posting of the next installment.
> 
> Please feel free to comment below and leave some kudos! Thank you so much!


	3. This is IMPORTANT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important things regarding this story and the series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some good news below and a teaser, okay? So, read on!

**Warning: This most likely contains some spelling and grammar mistakes--it is not beta'd.**

 

 

Hello, everyone!

 

Right off the bat--the good news is that the next edition to this series is now up! I have a few chapters written, it'll be longer than the last two editions, and the updates should be spaced about a week apart at the most. I normally hate to have to space updates so far apart, but seeing as how I don't have all of the story pre-written, I don't want to post everything all at once and leave everyone waiting for like a month.

 

That said--here's a teaser for the next edition!

 

***

 

_“You were right. The energy signature is too far off the charts to have been anything from Midgard—not to cause a spike like that so suddenly. The pictures,” he paused, drawing in a breath, “they were of the Bifrost—the transportation system used in Asgard.” His palms were clammy with sweat, his chest tight with the implications of what this could mean and he didn’t want to think about it, but he knew it was true. Someone from Asgard was here._

 

_“Fandral said you kept looking at me strangely the whole night.”_

_“You shouldn’t listen to idiotic blondes when they’re about as far gone as you are.”_

 

_"...don’t say your name, don’t look him in the eyes too much and don’t use your magic. Not unless it’s absolutely necessary..."_

 

_The skies darkened and thunder roiled as lightening struck down from the heavens._

_Then the screams began from down the hall on the other side of the castle and Loki watched his brother and father go racing out, quickly calling the black flame back to him, gazing at it in between his fingers before making it disappear._

 

_...she had almost had an entire kingdom at her feet, if Loki had only been a few seconds too late that day._

_He could only imagine what she would manage if they dawdled in this situation—what would happen if they were just a few seconds too late._

_He could imagine—but he didn’t want to._

 

***

 

That's the teaser!

 

Feel free to check out my other works. The majority are for the Marvel universe, but I have a LOTR one, as well.

 

Thanks a bunch, guys! If you have any ideas for future editions to the series, feel free to drop a prompt.

 

Thanks, again, so much for everything! Take care all of you and don't forget to subscribe to this series for more updates!

The link for the series in case you don't want to go and click it right below-- ( http://archiveofourown.org/series/348545 )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Do comment, if you want, on your thoughts and such! Thanks, again!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed this! It was pretty nerve-wracking to write this and I was really nervous to post it, but here it is. I hope you all liked it and chapter two should hopefully be up within the week. I'll do my best.
> 
> Sorry this chapter didn't have much to it. Feelings and such will be explored in the next chapter as Loki and Laufey get to talking, you'll see some interaction between Natasha and Laufey. There might be some Phil and Clint moments in between, also. And some flashbacks, because reasons!
> 
> I hope you'll all stay tuned and continue to read this story.
> 
> If you have any suggestions for this series, feel free to drop them below and I'll see what I can do.
> 
> Also, feel free to drop some prompts below. I'm more than happy to see if I can fill some prompts. It can be any length.
> 
> Thanks for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter!
> 
> Feel free to follow me on instagram, same username ( saruma_aki ) <3


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